


When the moment's right, I'll make a move

by nervouspunkboy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Cowboytober 2020, Dead Eye, Drabble, Gen, Minor Violence, Short One Shot, The Sheep and the Goats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nervouspunkboy/pseuds/nervouspunkboy
Summary: He could andwouldget them out. He just had to make the right shot, get the timing just right and maximise their chances of escape.Arthur had always been a hell of a shot, able to take down five to ten men in the blink of an eye. He'd gotten himself out of tougher situations and he would get them all out of this alive.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	When the moment's right, I'll make a move

**Author's Note:**

> Cowboytober Day One: Dead Eye
> 
> Here it is finally! I meant to be writing and posting this ahead of time so I wouldn't fall behind and we can all see how well that went. I'm making quick work though of catching up and the rest of Cowboytober should be finished within the week! Please enjoy!

Arthur kept his hands in the air as he followed Dutch out of the saloon, barely paying attention to whatever story he was weaving for the men in the street. It hardly mattered, it wasn’t like it would work, not at this point. Leviticus Cornwall had rode in here, knowing exactly where they were. Probably paid these men who knew exactly how much to threaten them. Dutch wasn’t going to talk his way out, they had their minds set and no amount of silver tongued tale weaving was going to change their minds. Just going to talk enough to give Arthur time, that was the better plan, one that if Arthur pulled it off they would get out of there just fine. 

If it worked, he could be proud that it was his plan that got them out of this mess. He blinked quickly, eyes adjusting to the bright afternoon light. It was a beautiful day, shame to have a shootout, but Arthur saw very little choice. There were only five men, two of which were holding John and Mr. Strauss hostage. Seeing the layout in front of him he was already planning how to get them out of this mess. He could work with the five men in front of him, he could and  _ would _ get them out. He just had to make the right shot, get the timing just right and maximise their chances of escape. 

The more Dutch spoke, the lower Arthur brought his hands, hoping that the man was entirely as captivating as he believed himself to be. He met eyes with John, not nearly as afraid as Strauss, years of winding up in messes like this would do that to a person. Arthur gave him a small nod, a little reassurance and John nodded back. He’d get him out, he always got John out. The man holding John gripped him around the throat tighter, knife pointed to his scarred cheek. The man holding Strauss had a revolver pointed to his head while the other three stood behind with repeaters ready to shoot them down in the middle of the nice afternoon in Valentine. He could shoot them all down, Arthur could. He’d shot as many men in only a few minutes before, but thankfully he wasn’t alone. He just had to make the right call for Dutch to start shooting, and if he could get John out of a chokehold, he could shoot too. Unless they took his gun, but Arthur doubted they were smart enough to do so. Three guns against what would then be four. Strauss couldn’t fight his way out as easily but with the three of them, they’d get him out just fine too. 

Arthur narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the man he would take down. He’d killed enough men to know exactly the points of the body to shoot to kill him before he or anyone else in that lineup would have time to react. And honestly, it was a mistake to think that just because he had John held in front of him that it protected his head. John knew how to tilt it, to expose the man behind him so he wouldn’t get shot. Dutch’s words were merely background noise to Arthur, there was a rushing in his ears by this point as he prepared to take the shot, his focus lasered on the moment and the hope of what a successful shot would bring. Swaying the conflict to their side without losing anyone that was vital to the gang and the future of them as a whole. His hands had dropped to his hips and Dutch’s voice was taking on an anxious pitch, running out of excuses and knowing his story wouldn’t keep their attention for much longer. Now or never. It was thunderous, the sound it makes whenever he does this, as he pulled his gun, the world shifted into hues of orange and gold and everything slowed. He fired from the hip, and the man holding John dropped, a hole now in the middle of his face, bleeding out into the mud. The man holding Strauss faltered, letting him go. John fumbled, rolled, and grabbed a gun. Dutch stopped talking and pulled his own gun; gunfire began to echo through the whole town. 

And all hell broke loose. 

**Author's Note:**

> Holy hell y'all I haven't finished and posted a piece in about two years and I'm excited to be back at it with RDR2. Kudos and comments greatly appreciated!! 
> 
> also shout out to nico and blaine for reading over this!


End file.
